


we outgrow love like other things

by AngryLou



Category: One Direction
Genre: Harry works at some fancy restaurant, M/M, Niall is the suave bartender, dont want to spoil the whole thing, hybrid!louis, louis may or may not be a weird homeless man, poor hungry baby, takes him home and loves him, that is until Harry sees his ears, what are tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:45:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2016765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngryLou/pseuds/AngryLou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's never put much thought to how far he's come since moving out. Come to think of it, he's never put much thought to anything. Except Louis. He spends hours and days and weeks thinking about Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Two words.

Trash Duty.

It's not that he's not grateful for his job, applying at Chateau Noir the summer after he graduated (also the summer before he’d throw himself into Literature courses at Uni) has been undeniably one of the best decisions of his life.

But when he saw the ad posted in the paper- a full page devoted to the search for hardworking men and women to carry plates of fine cuisine and pour glasses of expensive wine- he hadn't quite pictured it to be like this.

Sure, he'd served his fair share of plates like Lobster Linguine, and sure he'd popped open bottles of wine older than he was, but most of the time he was in the back washing dishes, or ironing table cloths.

Or of course, taking out the trash.

For dishes as amazing as the ones flying out of the kitchen, they sure were throwing out a lot of food. So much that the trash bags squished when you tossed them into the industrial sized bins in the side alley.

Once the heavy door was propped open with a crate, he covered his nose with his shirt sleeve, the stench of spoiled sauce hitting him like a brick wall.

Standing halfway inside the doorway, but just far enough to have a clear shot, he chucked the black bags straight in, cringing at the sound of ripping plastic, no doubt spilling its contents onto the floor.

Usually you'd hear the sound of glass shattering against the metal of the dumpster but Harry, being an avid recycler and all, collected all the empty wine bottles together in one of those bright blue tubs and slid it in place beside the bin.

Happy with the arrangement, he wandered back inside, removing the crate and stopping by the loo to wash his hands.

He met Niall back in the dining room, shaking a tumbler in one hand and uncapping a scotch bottle with the other. He really looked great behind the bar- master of his own universe and all that. Niall hadn't really known what he wanted to study in school. He blew most of his savings on new furniture for the flat and alcohol for the parties, but one day they were messing around and Niall had mixed together such a ridiculous concoction of liquor and canned juices they'd had sitting in the cupboard for months and named it Craic Juice. He made everyone grab a cup and toast to his creative ingenuity. With skeptical looks we'd tipped the cups back. It was damn good. From then on he became our designated mixologist, eventually taking a few online courses and making a career out of it.

"Oi mind giving me a hand?"

Harry chuckled, gladly sliding in beside his mate, hands running along the smooth walnut and grabbing the scotch from Niall.

A few men sat in the stools lining the counter, backs to the dinner guests, chatting idly with each other or staring into their half empty glasses. With a clink he filled a few more with the dark amber liquid and slid them over, receiving twenty pound notes in return.

"How's it been so far?" With the patrons happy and slightly drunk, and only a few couples left whispering under the soft lights, Niall and Harry have some time for idle chit chat.

"Good. Good. The usual I suppose for a Wednesday night." The middle of the week was always the slowest. No business parties setting up to impress foreign companies, no one willing to spend hundreds on wine if they've just got to get up early the next morning, and no one surprising their date with a ring nestled at the bottom of their champagne flute.

With 38 minutes left on their clocks, the boys looked about ready to go home. Harry more so. His uniform felt tight around his shoulders, and itchy under the collar. Niall's sleeves were rolled up his slender forearms and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top. (Bartenders didn't have to wear ties. Something Harry was constantly envious of.)

"Want me to swing by the kitchen and ask Sal to box up some leftovers?" Niall nodded graciously before being waved over by a woman in a red gown, her breasts practically spilling out. With a wink, he said his goodbyes and sauntered over to her.

By 8:30 they were grabbing their coats and shuffling out the door, to-go containers squeaking in their hands. Niall handed the Valet his keys, to which the Valet- their good friend Nick- had tossed them back at his face and demanded he get his own damn car, the lazy bastard.

With a snort of laughter, Niall rounded the building to get the car, Harry choosing to wait out front and chat with Nick.

A few women step out the front doors, and Nick excuses himself so he can do his job, leaving Harry alone with a box of pesto penne and the flirtatious gazes of three middle aged women. Pretended to take a phone call he ambles towards the side of the building, in front of the alley.

An echoing thud is made behind him, but Harry ignores it, dismissing it as Sal tossing the last of tonight's dinner. But then there's another noise- a clang. Then some rustling, and the crash and tinker of empty glass bottles.

Turning around Harry sees a shadow peeking out from the bin. It puts two hands on the edge and rather swifty leaps from inside and lands on the pavement with practiced grace, water splashing under its feet.

Homeless man? Harry had ruled out giant rat the minute he saw it pull itself over the edge of the trash bin. He looks around for Niall or Nick, but finds just the three women huddled in a group, the glow of cell phone screens illuminating their faces. Harry heads further into the alleyway.

His eyes track the movement of the man by the dumpster. Its too dark to tell how old they are, and for Harry's sake he's hoping it isn't some lost child, who's ran away from home and is looking for dinner.

Guiltily he looks down at the box in his hands. He doesn't need it, does he? He's pretty sure there's still something in the fridge from yesterday's take away, and if not he can make himself something with what's in his pantry. Who knows when this poor man/child/creature is getting his next meal.

"Hey you!" The figure freezes, scrambling for cover behind the recycling tub, hearing the faint protesting rattle of bottles from within. "No shh. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Harry crouches, then stands, feeling like an idiot for whisper-shouting down a dark alleyway at a homeless dude who may or may not be a sad little boy. Or a serial killer. Nothing's been ruled out. Except for that rat thing.

He shakes the box a bit in his outstretched arm, trying to get him the hear the sound of wet pasta sliding back and forth inside.

"If you're hungry, here take mine. It's pasta... Um good pasta." He corrects. As if the vagabond/child/psycho killer/rat whatever picked this particular dumpster for its four star garbage and would turn it's nose and politely decline if it was anything less.

Harry takes the initiative and steps forward, mindful of the shadow's guarded stare, and sets the styrofoam box on the ground about 5 meters from it. (Harry knows he should probably stop using the word it but he doesn’t want to assume anything.)

Headlights shine behind him and he gets a glance at the face behind the the mask- and it's definitely not a rat. It's a man. A young man.

He only gets snippets. Small build. Pale face. Startled fear behind a pair of bright eyes. Dark clothing and a fringe that falls over one eye. With a terrified shriek it leaps over the dumpster and behind the brick wall, into the neighborhood of buildings behind the restaurant and away from danger. Well, away from what he assumes is danger, when it's really just Niall and his crap Volvo.

Harry stands, both angry at Niall for scaring the boy away and a deep- almost motherly- need to go after him, to ensure he eats the food and doesn't go starving.

"What are you looking at? Come on it's freezing. Get in the car!" Niall honks a few times, earning a glare from the ladies out front, having missed the whole exchange between Harry and the mysterious alley-dweller.

"Yeah yeah, I'm comin'. Took you long enough." Harry slides into the passenger seat, buckling in and trying to forget the boy's poor scared face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIIII I can't believe I have 99 views in just the few hours this has been up I'm sorry for any typos, this whole thing is written on my phone using some free journal app that has the old iPhone keyboard.
> 
> Anyways, here's part 2 which should be significantly longer than part 1. 
> 
> ends in a car ride again- lulz
> 
> anyways, enjoy. I love love love Hybrid Lou and it's been fun writing for him.
> 
> all comments appreciated, let me know if it's so dang funky you can't read it without knocking loose a few brain cells
> 
> :)

Their flat isn't much, but after a long day of "Dressing on the side, please." and "What's your finest wine this evening?" it's all they could ask and more.

Sure the four flights of stairs to get there is painful, and a repair man really should be called about the broken elevator, but it's home. Harry unlocks the door and heads straight for his room, stripping off his black-on-black uniform and throwing on a pair of grey joggers and a t-shirt that he's almost positive is Niall's.

Walking back to the kitchen to make food he finds Niall already monopolizing the counter space, sitting on the edge with his hands outstretched behind him. "Hey I've got to eat off that counter." Harry makes a shooing motion and like a stray cat Niall hops off with a disgruntled pout.

"Hey Niall have you ever seen homeless guys in that alley?" Finding bread and meat Harry sets off making a sandwich.

"The alley next to Noir?" Harry nods. "Yeah sometimes. Sal usually scares em off, or we call the police if it gets out of hand. Why?" The microwave dings and Niall grabs a fork, twirling it in the noodles and holding it up to his mouth, blowing away the steam. Harry's stomach rumbles. "Seen any sketchy characters tonight?" He takes a bite.

With a shrug, Harry keeps his gaze down, spreading an even amount of mayo on each side. "One. Couldn't have been much older than us, and so scared."

"Think he'll come back?" Niall asks and- and that's a valid point. But would I come back to a spot where I'd been previously spotted? If the boy was caught in the act, he'd probably run as far away as possible so he can't be turned into the authorities.

"Probably not." Grabbing a water from the fridge Harry says goodnight before retreating to his room and stretching across his bed with his feet dangling over the edge. He eats his meal in the dark, the light from the lamp post outside his window casting a strange spotlight on his bed. Harry’s got a warm bed tonight. Something cold settles in his gut when he thinks of where that boy must be sleeping tonight.

The next morning he wakes to an empty flat. A note on the counter from Niall says that he's gone to lunch with some old friends and that he'll be back in time to take Harry to work. (The downside to not having a car. Shameful really.)

So he has a nice long shower and a healthy breakfast of eggs and toast while he waits. It's about four when he finally showers and gets ready for work. He's ironing his work clothes when Niall comes home. "I'm gonna dress now, leaving in 10." He says before shutting himself in the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later they're clocking in and getting to work.

Thursdays are about as slow as Wednesdays. But at least tonight they have a big party coming. Harry walks between the tables marked 'Réservation', setting black and gold name cards on each plate, making sure to check with the strict list in his hands.

"Don't put Thomas next to Kyle but make sure Kyle is across from Andrea so she can kick him under the table and keep him in his place?" He murmurs to himself. Sounds like a fun batch of friends. Once all exes are as far away from each other as possible and Jackie is seated next to her long time crush, Bo, he retreats to the kitchen to offer some help.

"Hey Harry, can ya do me a favor?" Sal's got a cigarette dangling from his mouth and a wooden spoon in the other, taking turns babysitting the Moules Marinières and fueling his bad habit.

"Course. What do you need?" It's probably hard to hear him over the bustle of pots and dishes clattering and sous chefs barking orders at those below them, but Harry can assume that Sal wasn't listening for a reply, knowing just how helpful Harry strives to be.

"The big reservation will be here in about 10 minutes, I need you to run out to my car and grab a paper from the passenger seat. Something about food allergies." He reaches in his pockets for the keys and tosses them to Harry, who catches them with confidence.

"Food allergens. Got it." He's halfway out the door when he hears Sal shout.

"It's the red one! Hurry back we don't need a lawsuit!" With a chuckle Harry rounds the corner and pushes open the steel door, not bothering to prop it open before strolling towards the car lot.

Avoiding the puddles and whistling some indie tune he holds the key fob in the air, clicking unlock and looking for the flashing headlights. A red car at the end of the lot unlocks with a sort of sad sounding beep and after a minute or so of digging through various bills and hair growth supplement brochures he finds a list of food allergies, all highlighted and underlined several times. Jeez. Strict bunch they are.

Locking the vehicle Harry pockets the paper and makes his way back. With last night's incident nearly forgotten, he's startled when he hears another clang. Harry presses himself against the brick, peeking around the corner like in all those spy movies he’s seen.

There, standing on his tip toes is the man he saw last night. Same attire, too. But then again, he's homeless isn't he? Can't suppose he'd go home for a quick change before another night of dumpster diving.

Any second now Sal could storm out, questioning where Harry Styles went with his car keys, and finding the poor guy red handed- quite literally- with spaghetti spilling from his pockets. Sal's quite normally a gentle giant, but in a situation like this he'd surely grab the boy by his collar and drag him down to the police station.

Knowing he's got to do something about it right now rather than in 15 minutes when the boy notices his obvious staring and runs off again, Harry comes out from hiding and approaches him.

With clumsy gazelle legs not fit for maneuvering dark streets, Harry makes his way towards the boy. "Hi."

Like before, the boy's startled, freezing mid action and turning his head slightly towards the intruder. Who, in this case, is Harry.

To be honest Harry feels rather rude for interrupting. He'd walk right back inside if he wasn't so anxiously anticipating the boy's next move.

He can see the gears turning under that dark hood. And although he can't see his eyes he knows they're everywhere, frantically looking for another escape route. Harry's closer than he was last night, probably would have time to grab him if he needed to. Must. Think. Fast.

"I'm sorry to erm, to disturb you but... you can't keep rooting through our trash like that you know? That's why the restaurant's inside, and not in this alley." A sad excuse of a joke really, but he wasn't really expecting the boy the laugh and say, 'Whoops, silly me. Table for one please, and send me a bottle of your finest wine.'

The boy drops whatever was in his hands and lowers to his original height, muttering a gentle sorry. Head tilted down like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar- close but not quite.

Harry fumbles over his tongue when he hears a reply, not expecting him to stick around long enough for a conversation, let alone an apology.

"Yeah well this is a place of business so." It's a shitty thing to say but Harry might be four seconds away from losing his job so. No time for formalities.

"Sorry. I'll go now." With his head down the boy gets ready to lift himself onto the dumpster. Choosing to hop the wall rather than walk past Harry.

Harry calls to him, about to stupidly ask if he liked the pesto penne last night when the boy slips on the wet container lid and tragically- heartbreaking slips and slides to the cobblestone below.

"Shit!" Harry runs over to him, immediately apologizing and looking for any protruding bones.

The boy kindly swats at him and Harry folds his big grabby hands in his lap, apologizing again.

"I'm fine. Really. My fault anyways. Let me just get out of your hair." The boy stands, and with a sickening twist of his anke falls again. Harry's there to catch him though, with a hand on his back and another around his upper arm.

"I think you've sprained something, please sit down I'll um. I'll get some ice." Is the ice machine fixed? Harry's almost positive they had someone come last week. Unless that was for the dishwasher, then he doesn't know what he's going to do. He helps the boy sit down, and instructs (or rather pleads) for him to stay put, before dashing inside.

The kitchen is in full order now, with steaming plates flying out the door and Sal fully engrossed in managing the tickets. "Here." Harry hands him the paper and grabs a cloth napkin from the table.

"Ah finally!" Normally Harry would get a beating for taking so long but just then a server collides with a chef and suddenly lots of things are broken. Sal dissolves into a full frenzy of curses then, and Harry gets out of there as soon as he can, grateful for the distraction. Grabbing a few ice clusters and wrapping them into the napkin he heads back outside.

"Hey I found some-" He swallows around the sentence. The boy must have pulled his hood down, and on display is a pair of pointy brown ears that fall back against his head when the metal door slams behind Harry.

He quickly moves to pull the hood back up, and Harry shuffles down next to him, unsure if what he saw was real. "Here put this right against your ankle." The boy complies, hissing in pain when the ice makes contact. Desperate to make sure he didn't just imagine cat ears atop his unruly clump of hair, Harry lifts his hand and slowly pulls the hood back.

Big mistake.

The poor thing jumps to his feet, making a growl-like wince when he puts pressure on his bad foot.

"I'm sorry! Please I just wanted to see them again." Choosing to remain on the ground as to not frighten him with some sort of power move.

The boy bites his lip, ears twitching like mad. Harry's gaze is transfixed on them. If he could just touch them...

"What are you doing?" Harry snaps out of it and retracts his arms, blushing.

"I'm sorry! I've just, never seen something like you. In person, that is." Hybrids used to be thought as some sort of myth. It was heard that they were popping up all around the country but most hadn't believed it to be true. That was years and years ago, and plenty of Hybrids appear in the media, but you could still stop people on the street admitting they've never been this close to one, let alone speak to them. Harry was one of those. He had seen hundreds of TV interviews and live footage of Hybrids entering and leaving their communities but the itch never went away. He wanted to study one up close and personal. They were fascinating creatures, really.

"Yeah well sorry but I'm not going to indulge in your sick fantasies. Thanks for the ice but I'll be leaving now." Turning away he begins to limp away, yanking his hood back up and shoving his hands in his jacket pockets.

Well now you've done it. Cursing under his breath Harry runs to stand in front of him, blocking his path.

"Please. That's not what I'm about. I'm sorry for invading your personal space or making you feel like a- a- bug under a microscope or something." He stutters. The boy doesn't bolt past him, instead meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes, searching for any false sense of conviction. He finds none.

With a nod he pulls his hood back down and his ears rise to sit poised between layers of brown hair.

Harry exhales sharply, his hand treacherously reaching out again.

"Can I?" He's injured the poor boy and insulted him in the span of 15 minutes, the least he could do is ask to invade his personal space again.

With a nod so small he wouldn't have seen it if he wasn't so intent on getting permission, Harry lets his hand do what it wants.

They twitch with first contact, and Harry smiles. They're soft, really really soft, and caramel brown like on a stuffed animal. His fingers slip down, where he scratches at the scalp and the boy purrs, slapping a hand over his mouth and looking up at Harry with a shocked expression.

Harry chuckles, making sure to scratch the same spot again, watching as the boy's eyes fall closed and he purrs again. They stand like this for a moment, suspended in the fact that this boy is letting Harry so close to him. He thinks they’re both a little surprised this is happening.

Pulling back, Harry sticks his hand out. "I'm Harry, by the way. What's your name?" The boy flushes before pulling his hood back up.

"Louis." Finally a smile graces the corners of his mouth and Harry's smiling so much it hurts.

Just then the back door opens and Niall peeks his head out.

"Mate it's chaos inside where are you?" He's taken aback when he notes the shadowy figure in front of Harry. "Sorry. Sal said you disappeared back here. Thought I'd come see what you were up to."

"I'll be just a minute Niall!" He calls back. Niall points to Louis and mouths if he should get help. Harry shakes his head and nods back towards the restaurant, obviously motioning for Niall to scram before Louis runs off again.

"Alright mate. See you inside." The door shuts behind him and the two are left alone again- this time with an obvious reminder that Harry has places to be and Louis shouldn't be here any longer.

With an awkward exchange of nervous glances and licking of lips Louis side steps around Harry and begins to walk off. Harry reaches out to grab his arm.

"Hey you got a place to sleep tonight?" The question is so forward he chokes to correct himself. "I mean, uh. I just thought that-"

Louis let's out a chuckle. "Yeah I get it. People with money don't really dig through trash cans do they?" Harry shuffles on his feet and sends Louis a nervous smile, confirming his assumption.

"But yeah I mean I've got a place I can crash. Don't worry about me." He moves to walk away again.

"But I want to worry about you." Okay now he sounds like some creepy mother hen figure with trichomania. Or is it doramania? He's not exactly sure.

Louis looks lost. And frankly a little embarrassed.

"I share a flat with my co-worker, Niall, the guy you just saw? He's cool. We've got a couch you're welcome to sleep on." A gust of wind comes down the alley and Louis pulls his sleeves down over his hands. "And you really shouldn't be walking on that ankle."

Louis looks down at said foot, weighing his options. "You really don't have to."

"Please. It's my fault you're hurt. It's the least I can do." With a reluctant smile, Louis nods.

"Fine. But only till I'm healed. Then I'm getting out of your hair okay?" He points a finger at Harry, meaning business. It's the cutest thing Harry's ever seen, honestly.

"Deal." He grins. Then his grin fades when he remembers he's got a shift tonight. "Shit. I'm on the clock."

Louis frowns. "That's cool I can just, I dunno, wait? I guess?" He raises an eyebrow and quite frankly Harry is appalled at himself for not thinking of a better plan.

"Are you sure? It should only be a few hours." He's wringing his hands. Maybe it only has to be two hours. He could get that big party out of the way and beg one of his co workers to take over. He'll say he's suddenly ill or something. Yeah that would work. Of course he'd have to get Niall to do the same... He makes a mental note to get a car as soon as possible.

"Hey what's a few hours when you've got a guaranteed warm place to sleep?" Harry's brought back to the present with a swift kick to the gut. How often has Louis gone without a bed? Without shelter???? Without food???!!!

Not knowing hot to reply to that without insulting Louis again, he just smiles and promises to be back soon.

Louis takes a seat by the door, and crosses his legs, smiling up at Harry. "I'll be fine, Harry. Really." With a wave Harry disappears inside, colliding with Sal.

"You've been gone a long time, what's going on out there?" He reaches past Harry for the door handle but Harry blocks the doorway.

"Nothing." As casual as he can he shrugs and smiles. "Just had to take a phone call is all. You know how mothers can be." He rolls his eyes dramatically.

Sal just grunts. "Yeah okay. Now that you're done with your uh, phone call... Can you start taking plates out to their tables? We've got hungry customers, here." Sal retreats back into the kitchen and Harry follows, grabbing food from the counter and pushing open the kitchen door with his elbow.

An hour or two into his shift he sneaks a cheese soufflé out back and he could get a lot of shit for it but the way Louis sort of claps when Harry hands it to him makes it all worth the risk.

He indulges in watching Louis take the first bite, practically melting against the brick, fork lifting the next few bites in quick succession before giving Harry a thumbs up.

The party drinks three wine bottles all together, and their final bill is astronomical, but by 8 o'clock they're stumbling into taxis with smiles on their faces, so overall it was a good night.

Niall's wiping down the bar when Harry approaches him. It looks a bit shady to be perfectly honest. He's looking around for anyone in earshot, and is motioning for Niall to come closer.

With a bark of laughter Niall complies. "What's got you all nervous, mate?"

"I'm bringing someone home tonight." Niall's eyebrows skyrocket and a with a smirk he pats Harry on the back.

"Nice one! What's he look like? Was he in that big party? I saw a few good lookin guys in there meself." Harry shoves his shoulder, unable to fight his exasperated grin.

"Not like that you idiot! He's a friend- At least I think."

"You think?" Niall's leaning against the bar, laughter bubbling out.

"Yeah I mean- anyway that's not the point." He sighs, trying to word it right. "The point is, he's in a rough place and needs a place to sleep tonight. I offered him our couch."

With a thoughtful twist of his mouth, he shrugs. "Sure mate. I don't mind at all. Is he ready to go?"

"Yeah yeah, he's outside." Harry's relieved, but he doesn't know why he was so worried in the first place. Not only is Niall a kind hearted guy, but he really just can't say no to Harry. He could probably convince Niall let him host an orgy if he really wanted to.

But he won't. Just to be clear.

Harry clocks out and finds Louis in the alley, humming something somber. He taps his thigh with his shoe and smiles.

"Ready to go?" Louis nods, taking Harry's hand and standing.

Harry's mind is still processing how small Louis' hands are in comparison to his (tiny tiny tiny) when Niall pulls up in that crap Volvo he wishes would just die already.

"Niall this is Louis. Louis, Niall." Harry opens the door for Louis and watches as he folds himself into the seat. With a grin Niall turns and says hello.

Or at least, his twisted form of hello which goes something like "Sup? Harry's awful excited to bring you home." To which Harry elbows him sharply in the side and tells him to shut up and drive, glancing in the side view mirror at Louis' crinkly eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aye shoutout to my friends for not freaking out when I told them about my Hybrid larry fic.
> 
> jessi, here's that next chapter you wanted. ily :*
> 
> anyways enjoy this chapter because I almost accidentally deleted the whole thing and threw myself off a bridge :))))

They pull up to their flat approximately 11 minutes later. (Harry's not exactly sure. He spent most of the trip hiding his face and suppressing laughs when Louis started asking Niall if that was his real hair. He made up some story about a grease accident at work. Louis was eating it up. That is until Niall had to focus on making an important left turn and Louis dropped the act to wink at Harry in the mirror. He sort of wants to keep him forever.) It's a wonky looking place, really. Like something out of a cartoon. The landlord assures them that this building has been standing tall and proud for decades. But that's what worries them. Its foundation is old and a few years back someone crashed their car into one of the columns and now the whole front lobby leans to the right. Not exactly five star realty.

Their door’s got three different locks on it, and you’d think that would be a comforting thought, but it’s not.

Harry watches Louis take in his surroundings. After politely towing off his ratty vans at the door (no socks wow wow wow poor baby. Harry is having a very hard time keeping these thoughts inside his head) he pads into the living room, glancing into the kitchen in passing before coming to a stop in the middle of the room, toes wiggling in the carpet.

Niall hangs around just long enough to change, and then he’s flying out the door. Something about popping down to some pub with a mate. Then it’s just Harry left alone to play host.

"Alright well here's the couch. It's a little small but it looks like you'll fit." With a snort Louis plops down on it. 'Plops' isn't very accurate seeing as he's got the practiced grace of a ballerina.

Okay...

That’s something that should never come out of his mouth when addressing Louis. Nope. Never.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” He smirks and Harry’s rather gobsmacked. If he thought shy nervous Louis was the cutest thing in the world, sassy eyebrow-raise Louis just might be the death of him. He's already insulted him once this evening, do you think he's got any control of the situation?

“Uh I mean like, when I fall asleep on it, long ways of course- my feet sort of… dangle off the edge. But I’m reasonably taller than you so- so you should fit quite nicely… I think. I hope- I mean-” Harry runs a hand through his hair. Save him . from his dumb mouth. Save him!

Louis just laughs at him. “It’s quite alright. This will do just nicely, Thank you Harry.”

"Alright well I'm gonna change out of my work clothes, and then whip up some dinner. Sound good?"

Louis nods, and Harry tosses him the remote. "Telly's all yours." Harry practically rips his shirt off when he gets to his room. (Niall keeps telling him he doesn't have to button it all the way to the top but if not, then his tie gets all crooked and he doesn't want that so he grits his teeth and deals with the irritating scratch against his neck all night.) He hangs the shirt on his door and tosses the tie on his desk, the wine red contrasting quite nicely against the maple. He unbuttons his black trousers and lays them across the back of the chair so he won't have to iron them too much tomorrow. Then he's digging through his closet for loose clothing.

Ones he's all dressed and no longer feeling constricted and itchy, he makes his way back, hoping Louis' getting along just fine.

He finds him still sitting on the couch, ears in full view. They twitch slightly when he laughs at something on TV.

He watches Louis scratch behind his ears and sort of cringe at the state of his hair, rubbing his fingers together with a frown. When's the last time he showered? Harry wants to ask, but how does one approach that sort of topic nicely?

Screw it. Just dive right in and say it.

"Hey Louis? Would you like a shower?" There. Was that so hard?

Louis pulls his gaze from the tv. "Erm yeah that would be great. Don't want to stink up your lovely couch." He stands, subtly checking behind him for muddy prints his clothes might have left. With a tinge of relief he follows Harry down the hall to the bathroom.

"I've got clothes you could borrow. And I'll wash yours too." Harry lies. He's going to take clothes from Niall's closet because they'll fit Louis better, and he doesn't actually own a washing machine so he's going to ask his neighbor Jessica if she'll run a load for him. She owes him anyways for that one time right? She'll remember.

And if she doesn’t? He'll just have to promise her a free plate of dessert from Chateau Noir. She’s a sucker for their Apple Croustade.

Making his way through the minefield that is Niall's room, he finally emerges with boxers, a pair of football shorts and a t-shirt with more than a few food stains on the front. Cheers.

Guiding Louis to the bathroom, he sets the clothes on the counter and turns the shower on, making sure it's at a reasonable temperature.

"Alright just change out of your clothes and get behind the curtain, and I'll come back in and grab them for the wash. That okay?" Louis agrees and Harry steps out into the hall. He feels like a naughty adolescent, standing outside the bathroom door, knowing exactly what he'd see if he opened it a crack. If he just took the tiniest, smallest, peek…

But he won't. He is refraining from doing anything remotely creepy.

He hears the curtain slide across the metal bar, and after a beat slides back.

"Okay you're good now, Harry." Steeling himself, he opens the door.

The clothes lay on the floor and Harry stoops to grab them, quite repulsed by their condition. How long has he been living in these rags?

They consist of boxers, a slightly damp jumper, a pair of jeans with frayed ends and rips in the knees, and a dingy long sleeve. The shoes he took off by the door didn't look any better.

"Leaving now. Have a nice shower." As if that isn't the weirdest thing to say. It earns him a chuckle from Louis and a 'will do' in response so he's not going to beat himself up over it.

Grabbing the dirty laundry from his room as well, he heads next door hoping Jessica's home and in a charitable mood. She answers the door, a golden retriever puppy in her arms.

"Harry! How's it going?" The dog wiggles in her arms, whining, and Harry almost loses his train of thought. Then he remembers the Hybrid in his shower washing off what must be months of grime.

"I need to do a load of laundry. Can I use your machine?" She nods, opening the door wider for him to squeeze by, the puppy licking a stripe down his forearm in passing.

They chat about work while he pours in detergent and sets the wash to heavy. He promises her a flaky apple tart after his next shift and kisses her on the cheek when she shoos him out the door, telling him she'll let him know when the load's done.

Shutting his own door, he calls for Chinese, ordering practically one of everything. Both because he doesn't know what Louis likes, and he doesn't know how long it's been since he's had a real meal.

You know, something directly from a stove and not some second hand entrée found in a garbage bin.

The Chinese actually arrives before Louis' done in the shower. If this were Niall, he'd yank him out of the shower and make him pay 60% of the water bill but it's Louis and if this means Harry's got to take 10 minute showers for the rest of the week he'll deal with it. He sets all the boxes up on the coffee table and is cracking open a soda when he hears the water shut off.

Louis steps out of the bathroom shortly, coming out into the living room with his hands behind his back.

"Hey. How was the shower? Hope you like Chinese." He pats the seat next to him and Louis smiles.

"It was good thank you." He curls up gently on the couch and Harry hands him a plate loaded with broccoli beef and lemon chicken. Harry passes him the fried rice container when he catches Louis savagely eyeing it and Louis looks like he has to actually stop and control his breathing.

"Seriously Harry I can't thank you enough. This means a lot." Harry just smiles until he can feel his heart growing ten times bigger and scratches Louis behind the ears like they've been friends forever. It's only been a day since they met and already Harry's been so generous. Louis can’t help but feel it’s all too good to be true.

Together they watch some American game show, and dig in. Harry can't seem to stop staring at Louis. His mouth. His crinkly eyes when he laughs. How he keeps humming deep in his throat with every bite of food. Harry really never wants him to leave.

Louis shifts to sit more comfortably and yelps in pain at something.

"Is it your foot? What happened? Are you okay?" Mother Hen Harry is on the scene ladies and gentlemen. Louis just laughs at his worried expression.

"I'm fine. Just sat on my tail is all." Something in Harry's brain fizzles just then. For some reason he hadn't put two and two together that if the boy had cat ears, he might also be equipped with a tail.

Harry suddenly needs to see it.

Like he read his mind (or noticed the dreamy-drooly look on his face) Louis pulls it out from under him and asks if Harry wants to feel it.

Now that's something his brain can process at a normal speed. He watches the end flick back and forth, variation in speed and distance and lots of other weird math terms that shouldn't be spewing from his mind and fogging up his focus right now. Harry wants to enjoy this moment before Louis decides he's had enough of this psycho and makes a break for the door. Or window. Either one would work.

Shaking his head, Louis takes Harry's hand and puts it on his tail and oh.

Oh.

This is so weird. It's soft- really soft. And especially fluffy after his shower. It's long and pretty and for a fleeting moment Harry is envious.

"It's so cool." Like a boy on Christmas Harry just kind of fiddles with it. He tugs on the hairs and holds it with two hands, bending it gently.

Louis snatches it back, but is laughing softly. "Well it's mine you can't have it." It folds into his lap, Louis obviously more comfortable having it out in the open and not tucked into a pair of shorts.

Harry refrains from initiating a game of tug of war and settles for stuffing his mouth with take out.

The night trails on. Mostly in the form of Harry embarrassing himself with deep curiosity and purely accidental insensitive comments.

So long story short he's asking if Louis has super hearing or can grab things with his tail like a monkey's and if he could jump off a three story building and land safely on his feet.

But Louis is a really good sport about it all, answering his questions as best as he can and fighting off Harry's grabby mitts. It's only when Niall's stumbling through the front door singing some old Irish hymn that they realize it's late. Like 1 in the morning late.

So Harry helps Niall out of his shoes and into bed, halting any and all of his attempts to talk to Louis. Niall hasn't been informed of Louis' um... Special Appearances yet and luckily he's too smashed to notice them when he teeters by, pointing at the food and telling him Sal would he upset to hear that Harry's cheating on him with the chef from Wong Palace. With much resistance Harry finally gets him to close his eyes and sleep.

With a sigh, Harry leans against the door for a second, before grabbing an armful of spare blankets from the hallway closet and setting them on the couch. Their shit flat comes with a broken heater, so really there's no such thing as too many layers. Louis has already tossed their trash and is drinking a glass of water.

"Oh sorry I sort of just helped myself." He says, placing the empty glass in the sink and meeting Harry in the living room.

Harry assures him it's nothing and Louis thanks him again before shutting off the lights and retreating to his room. With a content sigh, he  flops down on his bed, shifting to his back to stare at his ceiling.

The clock hanging on the wall above his desk ticks and ticks and he makes it to four hundred and sixteen before his eyes start to droop.

Is he dreaming right now? It feels like it. His body is kind of floating. Ignoring the sudden itch on his nose he let himself slide slide slide into a happy tired sleep.

The sound of cars honking on the freeway through his open window, the soft patter of his blinds knocking against each other, Niall screaming…

Niall screaming?

Niall screaming!

He yanks himself out of sleep by his shirt collar and flies out into the corridor and sees Niall waving what looks to be a rolled up magazine at a half-awake Louis.

"Niall! Niall Niall Niall stop. Stop!" He takes away Niall's weapon of choice and smacks him with it.

"The fuck?" Niall punches him in the arm and points to the couch where a Louis is wringing his hands in his lap, looking frantically at Harry.

"Niall you're still drunk, calm down and I'll explain." He may have the alcohol tolerance of a fleet of pen-tailed tree shrews, (when Harry's in a tense situation his mind tends to spew out useless facts. A superpower if you will.) but no small amount of sleep can wipe it out of his system.

Niall's jaw drops open. "Sorry mate what was that? You're telling me to calm down? What the fuck have you brought home? What kind of freak of nature is that thing?” Louis looks like he wants to crawl under the couch and Niall can hardly get a word out without falling over, blind with drunken rage.

Ah damn he's going to feel this in the morning.

Using probably all of of the 8 seconds of violence he was born with he pulls his arm back, clenches his fist, and let's him have it. With a groan Niall stumbles backwards and knocks over a stack of CD's, falling to the ground with a thud.

Harry clutches his hand against his chest and winces. Niall might not actually remember any of this tomorrow, which Harry supposes, is the the silver lining here, but on the off chance he does remember everything. Well.

 **  
**Niall may just feed him his own teeth.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who knew green Haribo gummy bears were actually strawberry flavored? mmm
> 
> stopped writing halfway through this chapter cause I couldn't think of what to write but then I ate a donut and BAM inspiration.
> 
> Proof that god works in mysterious ways <3
> 
> HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS CHAPTER
> 
> LOTS OF FLUFFY STUFF NEXT CHAPPY I PROMISE <333

Harry's pancake is mid-flip when Niall emerges from his room.

"Why does my whole brain feel like it's too big for my skull? And why is my cheek so swollen?"

Whoops.

Harry's not very good at confrontation. He's surprised he even managed to keep his eyes open last night when he punched his best mate in the face.

But he deserved it! He insulted their guest right in front of him. The same guest who he said was rocking the "grunge hobo chic" look. Someone who he was 100% okay with spending the night on the couch he broughtover  from his parents house.

In fact, Harry was almost positive that couch held a bigger spot in his heart than his PlayStation 3. That alone brings up a lot of questions about what exactly he's done on that couch to make it so sentimental.

But that's a conversation for a different day. Today's topic is... well it doesn't have a title yet but Harry's sure it will have something to do with the bro code. And quite possible animal rights.

"Uhm." This is it. This is where he's supposed to come clean and apologize for putting a dent in what Niall's mum calls 'her masterpiece'. There's a damn good apology sitting on the tip of his tongue. Just watch it's going to be heartwarming.

"You want some breakfast?"

Harry is a bloody coward.

He shakes the pan, another golden brown pancake flopping out to join the rest of its kind on the plate.

"Yes please." Niall's feet slap against the tile. He grabs a pancake, taking a bite out of it and whimpering when he finds that chewing has become a lot harder. "Harry?"

"Hmm?" He replies without looking at him.

"What the fuck happened last night?" He opens the fridge and takes out a carton of orange juice. He manages to bring it to his lips before Harry's thrusting a glass in his face. With a soft chuckle Niall complies and actually uses the cup. Barbarian.

"Um you see, what happened was..." Geez Harry is worse at this than he thought.

"Did I get into another fight or what?" Niall laughs. "I don't even remember who it was I fought with."

"Nope no pub fight. But... you did get punched." With a cringe he turns off the stove and brings the pancakes to the table, setting them amongst the bacon and eggs. They both take a seat at the table and serve themselves.

"Well then who-?" Niall's gaze shifts to the seat next to him at the extra plate and silverware. "Harry... who's here?"

And the award for the worst timing ever goes to...

"Jessica says hello and that you need to stop buying black clothes. She's worried you've gone goth?" He halts his steps and there's a second where no one moves or breaths and it's so peaceful that Harry can pretend for one moment that everything is fine.

And then shit hits the fan. Louis' ears fall back against his head and his tail wraps around his thigh.

"Niall don't freak out."

"Ahhh!" Niall kicks his chair back and jabs a finger in at Louis, who drops the laundry basket and shrieks.

Harry wrestles Niall to the ground and straddles him, pinning his wrists to the ground and putting all of his weight on his hips.

"Niall you're freaking out. I specifically remember telling you not to freak out." Gritting his teeth he keeps Niall's wrists firmly to the floor.

With a gasp Niall tries to buck him off. "Yeah? And I remember you socking me in the face last night." Well okay then looks like the Guinness-induced amnesia wore

off.

"You were being very mean I had to stop you."

"Mean? How?" He twists his torso and when that doesn't work turns to kick his legs out for leverage.

"You insulted Louis and made a lot of threatening hand motions." Niall stops struggling.

With a pout he asks, "What? I did?" Harry's breathing heavily above him- a position he never thought he'd be in. Sure, Niall's a fit lad but he's not into blondes. (An ongoing joke they've had for quite some time.) But honestly Harry hasn't thought of Niall like that for months. And anyways, the boy Harry's really thinking about is standing off to the side, observing the two with trepidation.

Niall stutters. "What- what did I say exactly?"

"Well, you saw the ears and the tail, and you asked 'what the fuck I brought home'. I believe there was also a ‘freak of nature’ thrown in there as well.”

Niall looks at Louis. "Something like that?"

Louis nods sympathetically. "Something like that."

"Ah fuck." Harry gets off of him and helps him up. Then they're just standing in a tense triangle.

Niall studies Louis, who has relaxed a bit, seeing the guilt on Niall’s face.

"I'm sorry, mate. I become this macho tough guy when I drink too much. I guess your appearance startled me. Didn't mean what I said, promise." Harry pats him on the back.

"It's okay. It shocks a lot of people. Girl next door nearly dropped her dog face first. Dog didn't seem to mind though."

They all laugh.

And that's the best way to end a tough situation isn't it? With a good laugh?

So Niall tells him about this Hybrid he knew back in his hometown and the crazy shit they'd get into. Niall sounds reminiscent when he mentions how he moved away without saying goodbye, and explains that that must have have been why he was so startled, having not seen a Hybrid since then.

They all eat breakfast together. Louis has been staying off his bad foot, (apart from going next door of course.) and it's slowly getting better. He can put some pressure on it, but Harry insists that he should stay until it's completely pain-free.

As consolation, Niall offers to do the dishes and watches as Harry carries Louis back to the living room.

Niall can just stick his smirk where the sun doesn’t shine.

Once they're all sprawled out in the living room- Niall and Louis on the couch and Harry in the armchair- and after Louis let Niall inspect his tail for any remote controls or wires, he made a formal apology and declared that Louis can stay as long as he wants.

Come 4 o'clock the boys have to get ready for work.

"I could always call in sick, you know." Harry murmurs, ironing both of their uniforms on his desk- student living, and they're not even students!

Niall shakes his head. "You can't afford to take a whole shift off just to babysit. Besides, Louis will be just fine. The fridge is stocked, there's stacks of books in here he could pick up and read... should he feel interested." He scans the shelves with vague interest. With a pause Niall adds with a raised eyebrow, "He can read right?" Harry tosses a paper clip at him.

"Of course he can read." At least he hopes he can. Harry doesn't like to think about the potential ramifications of Louis' street life.

"Well in the off chance he can't, there's a perfectly working TV out there. He'll be fine. It's only like five hours. What could-"

"Don't even think about saying 'what could possible go wrong?' alright?" Harry interrupts. "That's what they all say before the stove bursts into flames or the fridge falls and crushes him." He hands Niall his shirt- wrinkle free.

Niall laughs, shrugging the shirt on and moving to stand in front of the mirror. "Well then we'll warn him to stay away from the kitchen appliances." Keeping at least three buttons undone, he slips on his shoes and grabs his keys. "Come on."

Harry sighs, pulling on his own uniform and lacing up his black sneakers. He loves his job, he really does. It pays well enough and the staff are some of the most genuine people he's ever met. But he doesn't like leaving Louis alone. He's not worried he'll steal their toaster and make a break for it, but he'd rather be here with him. Maybe get to know him before he leaves for good?

He runs his fingers through his hair a few times before meeting Niall in the entryway, puffy winter coat in his hands. Louis is standing by the door, dressed in his old jeans but in one of Niall's tank tops.

"We should be back around 10. Jessica's right next door if you need anything. Our numbers are on the fridge. Don't hesitate to call us if-"

"Yeah yeah, don't answer the door to strangers and keep my hands out of the rubbish disposal. I've got it mum." Louis rolls his eyes fondly and oh yeah, he's not eleven years old. Niall just cackles at Harry's expense and fist bumps Louis before walking out.

"But really. Call me if you need anything." He runs a hand down his tie, tugging on it nervously. Louis steps away from the wall and wraps his arms around Harry's torso. With a delay, Harry hugs him back.

Louis' the first to let go. "Got it. Now hurry up and leave already so I can start sifting through your drawers." He manages to push Harry out the door and locks it behind him with another eye roll.

Niall and Harry drive in a comfortable silence. Radio is off, but most of the speakers in his car don't work so it wouldn't make a difference anyway.

They park in the back and walk side by side to the entrance. Niall suddenly stops Harry with a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen, about last night." Again, another position he didn't think he'd be in. Niall continues. "You know I didn't mean it right?" His breath visible in the cold.

"Yes Niall I understand. It was dark, you had been drinking that night," He switches tracks. "I should've told you about him sooner. I'm sorry." A smooth black sports car pulls up to the valet and a well dressed man steps out, walking around the car to open the passenger door for his slender date. Her face remains stoic as he passing his keys and what looks like a fifty pound note into Nick's hand before guiding her through the glass doors. Nick grins, practically skipping to slide into the drivers seat. Valets have it so good.

"But can you blame me? I mean Hybrids don't normally come 'round here, and we both know why."

Oh. Yes. The night Niall is referring to is actually the night Harry almost quit.

It was eight months after they first started working at Noir. Niall's at the bar entertaining the guests as usual, and Harry was cleaning off a table when he hears someone come in- a family actually.

Now although Chateau Noir is well known for it's pricey dishes and and well-stocked bar, that doesn't mean it's strictly for those over 21.

On rare occasions, families will come in, requesting for a table by the window where they can enjoy a nice meal out.

And there's nothing wrong with that, but a Hybrid family is something of an oddity.

The man walks in with his wife, who's holding a baby girl in her arms. A boy trails behind them, admiring the tall windows and the many crystal chandeliers lining the center of the dining room.

The maître d' stops them, politely asking if they made a reservation. Expecting them not to, he's quite shocked when the man gives his name and he checks the list on the computer.

The host rings for the manager, Alicia, who comes forward and tries to assess the situation. There's some hushed whispers before a clatter is heard from the bar.

A man stands from his stool, shooting down the last of his drink before taking his wife's (or mistress') hand and pulling her towards the front doors.

Using the table nearest to him as cover, Harry had taken the rag from his back pocket and started to wipe down the table.

"Excuse me sir is there a problem?" Alicia asks the man. He takes a good long look at the family and turn away in disgust.

"I assumed this place had higher standards.” He said. “We're leaving." Nick held the door open for them, head down and shoulders stiff.

Breaking the awkward silence, the maître d' starts to collect menus.

Alicia stops him.

In this case, the manager looks like the bad guy, and for that Harry has a lot of respect for her, because although she's doing a bad thing by making this family leave, word would have spread to the owner, and she'd have been out on the street. She would have lost her job for getting this beautiful family a fine dinner and letting that man ruin the hotel's image. So she she didn't. She politely asked them to leave, and they did.

They looked crushed. The wife, a gorgeous redhead with matching ears clutched her fussy baby to her chest and looked to her husband, whose jaw was tense with frustration. His eyes filled with disappointment.

Having parked a few blocks away, Nick recalled them leaving with their heads high- a tip from their father. With a pout the little boy took his father hand and asked why this always happened to them.

Harry almost quit that day. It took a lot of convincing on Niall's part that this job was great for them and that not punching that man for his bigotry and keeping his mouth shut doesn't make him a bad person.

He found Alicia outside smoking a cigarette, angry at the world and herself for what she had done.

Bringing himself back to the present, Harry shifts slightly and looking through the window. There, talking to the new hostess, is Max- their new manager. Alicia quit a few weeks after that incident, saying the guilt was eating away at her.

"No I don't blame you. But I'm glad you apologized. I don't want Louis to think we're like those people." Nick waves from his podium, warming his hands with his breath and bouncing up at down.

Okay maybe Valet's don't have it so good after all.

"He's a good lad." Niall's nose is already red and Harry can't imagine his looks any different. "Quite fit, too."

"You really know how to kill a moment don't you?" Harry pushes past him and heads inside, hanging up his coat on the rack and punching in his time card.

Niall does the same, laughing maniacally. "Way to change the subject, mate. I'll take that as a 'yes Niall, he is quite fit. I want to kiss his little kitty face' cause I know that's what you're thinking!" Harry shoves Niall- who stumbles all but three inches.

"Shut up and get to work." Harry's hoping Niall doesn't notice the blush creeping up his neck as he diverts to the kitchen to give assistance, but by the obnoxious cackle he hears behind him he knows Niall most definitely did.

He sort of wants to punch him again.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY SMALL CHAPTER im sorry. I cleaned up the story a bit, so there shouldn't be any typos anymore. 
> 
> also, let's not talk about how I've been away for 5 months lol.
> 
> ANYWAY hope this ties you down. I'll be writin more this weekend and over my two week break!!!

The night passes in a blur of patrons clinking glasses of bubbly champagne and eyeing those with better taste in attire, stopping only when Harry and Niall take their break to share a plate of ravioli in the refrigerated stockroom.

Niall stands, wiping sauce off his chin and swiping his hands on the back of his pants.

"Come on mate, sauce stains." Harry admonishes him.

With a careless shrug Niall leans against the cheese rack, his hands folded behind his head. Harry rolls his eyes, rubbing his arms, soothing the gooseflesh appearing from the cold room- its thermostat set at a refreshing fifty two degrees.

"Is this the part where we get a call that Louis has had accident?" Harry asks.

Niall's laughter is almost lost in the hum of the overhead AC unit. "I'm sure he's fine. No kitchen related injuries I promise. If anything, this is the part where we get locked inside, only to be found hours later as human popsicles." They're more than halfway through their shift, light just visible at the end of the tunnel.

"Why so distracted, mate?" He asks, when Harry doesn’t laugh or scold him. (It’s always one or the other.)

Harry sighs for what must be the hundredth time that day. "I don't know, Niall. I've known him a day but he's all I can think about. And it's not all bunnies and rainbows. His eyes tell this sad story of a- of a boy who's had to go hungry on several occasions." He pauses, looking down. "Of someone who's relied on his fight-or-flight instincts a long time. Of someone who deserves to be cared for and loved."

Niall tilts his head at him in a way that only Niall can do. It says 'I understand and I'm not judging you, even though I should be.'

"I get it. But what are you gonna do when he leaves?"

Leaves? Uh oh. Why hadn't he thought of this earlier? He keeps forgetting that this is only temporary. That once his foot is healed, Louis is leaving. Forever.

Another sigh. "I don't know. I mean he doesn't know much about us. Wouldn't want to stick around."

"And you can't force him to. He's grateful for this, I know he is, he won't stop thanking you, but I'm afraid this is just one of those one-time things. Like nursing a bird back to health before letting it fly away."

"Or a stray cat." Harry smiles a little.

"Yeah, that one’s a bit ironic isn't it?" Niall laughs. "Come on, break's over." He leaves Harry with the cleanup, as usual, and goes back behind the bar. Harry takes the plate into the kitchen and leaves it with the staff, who smile at him.

"Pasta was great, Sal. Thank you."

"Of course it was. My recipe!" Sal looks up from chopping vegetables- something that makes Harry cringe.

"Stop that you'll chop off a finger!" Sal just chuckles at him and chops faster, harder. With an exasperated smile Harry leaves the kitchen and heads off to take orders at the tables.

It's 9:30 when they leave the building, bundled up in coats and scarves, speed walking to the car and slipping on ice more than a few times in the process.

The inside of the car itself is no better than the cold outside. They shut their doors quickly, their breaths mingling in the quiet space. Niall fumbles for his keys and with numb fingers he turns on the ignition.

Once in front of their building, Harry is out of the car and up the steps by the time Niall's even locked the car. After delivering Jessica her takeaway box full of crispy dough and buttery apples, he forced open their door, shivering instantly. He heads down the hall in search for Louis.

"Louis?" He looks in the living room for him. Then the bathroom. Then the kitchen. Then the bedrooms.

He finally finds him, asleep in Harry's bed under a ton of blankets. Harry smiles to himself. Louis snores softly.

"Why is it so cold in here?" Niall steps into the room and Harry clamps a hand over his mouth, pointing to the bed thief. Niall's eyes light up, and Harry releases his hand.

"He's so cute!" He whispers. Harry just nods in agreement.

"Must've gotten tired and decided against the couch."

"Aw. Wonder why he didn't take my bed?

Harry chuckles against his hand. "Mate we wouldn't have been able to find him." Niall pouts.

Being the greedy bastard he is, Harry eventually shoos him out of the room, shutting the door softly behind him. He walks over to the bed and sits on the edge, gaze shifting to Louis' face.

He looks so little. Face soft and squished against the pillow, mouth slightly agape, all quiet sighs and tiny snores. His nose scrunches cutely and his ears twitch when Harry runs his knuckles against them. His eyelashes flutter open, eyes adjusting to the dark.

"Hey." Louis looks shocked, and a little embarrassed. He sits up, apologizing under his breath and moving to take the covers off him. Harry stops him and puts a hand on top of his.

"No it's fine. Stay." He removes his hand after a beat.

Louis protests. "I've obviously overstepped some boundaries. It's just that it got so cold in the living room and I couldn't shut the window and well," He hides his face behind his hands, cheekily peeking through them. "Your bed is really comfortable. Guess I just passed out."

Harry laughs. "Yeah the window gets stuck sometimes. You have to kick it a few times."

"Like with your foot and everything?" Louis questions, head tilted to the side. Adorable.

"Yep. This place is a piece of shite, really."

Louis cracks a smile. “I like it. It’s very homey.”

Harry snorts. “Homely more like.” They sit in silence for a second, before Harry stands and walks to his closet to change out of his uniform.

“How was work?” Louis asks, snuggling back under the blankets and resting his head on his arm.

Harry had originally planned to give him a simple ‘it was swell, thanks’ which turned into him explaining what it is exactly he does at the restaurant ( _oh you mean besides hanging out in the alley, looking for people to take home?_ ha ha) which eventually led to Louis and Harry sitting side by side on his bed, laughing about the time Niall was entertaining the staff with his Sal impression- Sal just so happened to be there that afternoon, and Niall nearly pissed himself when he came up behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder and a _tsk tsk that’s no way to speak about your elders, boy._

Then there’s a knock on his door. Niall- speak of the devil- peeks in, then abandons that idea and flings himself on top of them both, demanding food and attention. Sometimes Harry feels ripped off- he signed up for a roommate, and not a lonely house pet. Niall bites his thigh when he tells him this, but Louis giggles into his shoulder so the pain never actually registers.

Harry whips up a pot of macaroni and cheese, serves it into three bowls, and joins the lads for a movie in front of the telly. Niall wanted something manly (anything Robert Downey Jr, seriously. Just none of that lovey dovey crap.) but when Harry saw Louis fidget excitedly when the playstation cursor hovered over a certain movie about little blue people in New York City, he had to play it.

Halfway through the film, Niall left to go to sleep or make a phone call or watch porn on his laptop- whatever. He wasn’t listening. No, he was too focused on the warm presence next to him. Ten minutes into the film, Louis had scooted closer, toes bumping Harry’s calve. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something fuzzy against his thigh, grasping it in his hands and squeezing gently. Louis grinned, tail flicking in Harry’s hand like he didn’t plan on it happening.

When the credits start rolling, Louis can hardly keep his eyes open. Harry finally releases his tail, tossing the blanket off of them both and standing.

“For someone who didn’t even leave the house today, you sure do look tired.” Harry stretches, digging his knuckles into the small of his back, groaning with the relief.

Louis smiles up at him through hooded eyes.

Here goes nothing…

“Come on, time for bed.” Harry motions for him to follow, feet thudding down the hall as he heads for his room.

When he gets inside, he turns around to find Louis right behind him (sneaky tiny cat feet) ears up and tail swishing. God he’s just so cute.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asks.

Harry can’t nod enough. He’s already thinking about joint bank accounts.

Shutting that part of his messed up brain down, he gets into bed, contorting his body into a position that will give Louis the most room-back against the wall, legs straight. Louis crawls in next, curling himself up nicely. He huffs out a laugh when Harry hits his head against the wall, then yawns. Harry pulls the duvet up to his chest- Louis’ shoulders. (squeeeel) Within a minute, they’re both asleep.

****  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Harry wakes up to an empty bed.

Correction: He thinks he wakes up to an empty bed.

He wakes slowly, eyes blinded by the sunlight coming in through his window- having forgotten to close his blinds last night (again)- and immediately moves to smother his face into his pillow, only to get a mouthful of hair.

He freezes, no doubt aware of how much he drools in his sleep, and shuffles up onto his elbows, wiping the side of his mouth and ruffling his hair a bit. Louis is laying on side, back pressed along Harry as his arms dangle off the edge of the bed.

Harry runs a tentative hand through Louis’ fringe, brushing the hair away from his eyes. With an itty bitty mewl, (Harry is feeling a bit like a puddle right now) he stretches, arching his back and rolling his wrists, before rolling onto his back. For a moment they don’t speak, simply basking in the warmth of the room and exchanging sleepy smiles. Louis’ ears swivel, no doubt listening to the birds and traffic outside, and maybe he can even hear Niall snoring in his own room down the hall- Lord knows the neighbors can hear it.

“Morning.” He croaks.

“Hi.”

“Do you work today?”

He hums to himself. “Nope.”

Louis smiles, content. With a sly sideways glance, he shifts, and then Harry’s feels a tail against his belly. He grabs it playfully.

“You’re so obsessed.”

Harry grins sheepishly. He’s probably coming off like he’s planning on severing the damn thing in his sleep and using it as a keychain, but Harry is just so fascinated. Curiosity is not something reserved just for cats, because Harry has so many questions. Although most of his more ridiculous ones were answered that first night ( _what’s catnip like?_ he got a smack for that one. _honestly, mate you think we smoke that shit for fun?_ ) he just wants to know what it’s like being a little different. Abnormal. Unique. Harry’s whole life he’s been the goofy tall nice guy. He sailed through schooling and first jobs without much resistance, but after that night, seeing a man have to explain to his kid why they aren’t allowed in some businesses, struggle is all Harry can think about.

“I’m a little jealous to be quite honest.” Louis scoffs, tail swishing back and forth, Harry can hardly catch it.

“Why would you be jealous of me?” He spits. Harry gapes.

“Do you see yourself?” _You’re beautiful_ , he doesn’t say.

Louis sits up, moving to stand by the window. Knowing enough about cats, Harry can assume that his rigid posture and sideways ears mean that he’s irritated.

“Louis,”

“I don’t want to hear it, Harry.” He says. Airplane ears mean bad, okay got it.

Harry swallows his argument. He doesn’t know what Louis’s been through, and he has no right to go butting in his life like this. Sighing, he stands, scratching his lower abdomen absently as Louis stares out the window.

“You feel like going out?” Louis turns, pupils constricting.

“Where?”

Harry shrugs. “Maybe grab some lunch, go to the park. I have to go grocery shopping too, so a quick run to Tesco’s as well. That sound good?”

**  
**Louis nods, smiling softly, and Harry think’s he’s forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I need Beta's and Brit Pickers and Collaborators. Please apply now.*
> 
> :)


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